


Trick or Treat

by vcg73



Category: Glee
Genre: 2015 Prompt: Candy, Gen, Halloween, Tumblr: kurtoberfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 05:25:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16190996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vcg73/pseuds/vcg73
Summary: Adjusting to life as a two person family can be tough.





	Trick or Treat

The hand of the big clock in the hallway moved slowly, ticking off another minute. Kurt wondered anxiously if it might be broken. Each minute seemed to crawl by. Wasn’t five thirty ever going to get here?

He got up and trotted to the front window, pressing his nose to the glass and straining to see the driveway. Still no truck. With a disappointed sigh, he returned to his place on the stairs. He could see both the clock and the front door from here, so it was a good place to keep watch.

Sitting carefully so as not to wrinkle his outfit, Kurt hugged his knees and resumed his impatient vigil.

~*~*~*~*~*~

At five thirty two pm, the front door opened at last. Burt Hummel trudged inside, setting his keys on the front table and his large case of tools next to the door. The box contained his favorite set of socket wrenches, the last Christmas present his wife had ever given him, and it was never permitted to stay overnight at the garage.

“Hi, Dad!”

“Hey, kiddo,” he returned absently, going into the kitchen to put away his lunch box and wash a layer of ever-present engine grease off his hands. “What do you want for dinner?”

“I made us pigs in blankets. They’re keeping warm in the oven,” he chirped, following his father into the kitchen.

Burt finished rinsing out his coffee thermos and turned around, a confused look on his face. “You made mini sausage dogs? I thought you hated those. Too many fillers and artificial preservatives, isn’t that what you said when I brought ‘em home from the grocery store last week?”

Kurt grabbed hold of his checked sleeve, bouncing anxiously on his toes. “Yes, but they still taste good and I needed something we could eat fast. It’s almost dark out! I already put my costume on.”

For the first time, Burt actually focused on what his son was wearing. His nine-year-old had unique taste in clothing at the best of times, so it hadn’t immediately occurred to him that the boy was dressed in a satiny blue poet’s shirt, black pants, and his beloved patent leather tap shoes. His mother’s old black scarf was wound around his narrow waist, decorated with some kind of big shiny belt buckle in the center, construction paper spray painted with gold paint by the look of it. Kurt’s sandy brown hair had been combed up and back, hair-sprayed to stand several inches higher than it usually did, and there was a black shoelace tied around his forehead like a tiny sweatband.

Suddenly, Burt got it. He laughed. “Are you that dancing guy from the show we saw last month?”

“Riverdance,” Kurt agreed, happy that his outfit was recognizable. “I made my bag to match. Want to see?”

“Uh, sure,” he agreed, still looking a little confused.

Kurt scampered off to the living room and returned with one of the cloth grocery totes that his mom had sewn. Katy had been a big believer in leaving as few carbon footprints on the earth as possible. She had sewn a dozen of the large, durable, double-handled sacks in a variety of patterned cloth. Kurt returned with the blue one, which had been decorated in the middle with an iron-on patch of the Riverdance logo that he had convinced Burt to buy for him online. Burt had assumed the kid wanted to make his own souvenir T-shirt or something, but it looked like Kurt had had something different in mind. 

Below the picture, Kurt had used a tube of puffy gold paint to write the words ‘Trick or Treat’. Glancing at the wall calendar in surprise, Burt said, “Today’s Halloween?”

Kurt’s eager posture slumped. “Didn’t you know?”

“Uh, well, sure … I mean, I knew it was soon. Everything in Lima has been decorated with pumpkins and witches for the last month. I just, um …”

“Lost track of time,” Kurt said sadly.

Burt had done that a lot over the last year. Ever since the first week of October, when they had suffered through the first anniversary of losing Katy, he had been especially absent-minded. He was really bad when it came to holidays. They had skipped Halloween last year, neither one in the mood for any kind of festivities so soon after the funeral. He had kind of sleep-walked through Thanksgiving, forgotten Christmas entirely until he saw Kurt hanging up his mother’s perfume bottle as a window-ornament, and rung in the New Year with a lonely beer in his La-Z-boy. He had managed to remember Kurt’s birthday in May, but then forgotten his own in September. 

Kurt had obviously hoped that things would get better once the dreaded anniversary passed. “We don’t have to go, if you don’t feel like it,” he offered quietly.

Burt watched him turn around to go to his room, the brightly decorated candy bag dragging the floor behind him. The soft clatter of Kurt’s taps hitting the tile floor sounded as sad as his slumped shoulders looked. “Wait,” he said, stopping him. Burt had promised them both that he would do better this year. He was all the kid had now. It was time to stop wallowing in what they had both lost, and remember what they still had. Katy would have wanted her little boy to have a fun night out, trick or treating with all the other kids. “You’re gonna need a jacket. It’s cold out tonight.”

The little boy’s face brightened at once, a hopeful look blooming in his bright blue-green eyes. Katy’s eyes. It made Burt feel good to be able to put happiness in those eyes again. Still, Kurt’s first words were not unexpected. “It’ll cover up my costume!”

He had a point. People were going to have a hard enough time figuring this one out without a winter parka covering half of it. 

Burt studied him for a moment, then said, “That shirt looks pretty loose. Think you can fit your thermal underwear underneath the costume?”

Kurt beamed. “That’s a good idea! Be right back!” Shoving the trick-or-treat bag into Burt’s hands, he took off like a shot.

While Kurt was changing, Burt pulled their dinner out of the oven and divided the little sausage rolls onto two paper plates, adding a bag of potato chips and an apple sauce cup to each of them. Kids needed vegetables.

“Ready!” Kurt announced, dashing back in with red cheeks and a bright smile. Burt could see the edge of a ribbed thermal shirt sticking up above the v-neck of his blousy costume shirt, and he was a little surprised that there was no whining about ‘ruining his lines’ or some such, but maybe things like that didn’t matter when they stood between a little boy and a potential bag full of chocolate bars.

“Good job. Eat up and we’ll get going. And take your time. We still got a few minutes before it’s fully dark out, and I don’t want you plantin’ your hot dogs in the Lawrence’s azalea bushes.”

Kurt sighed gustily and took a bite. Grown-ups always seemed to take forever when it came to doing fun things.

“You want to stop over at the Lima mall once we’ve covered the neighborhoods around here?” Burt asked after a few minutes.

Kurt’s face popped up eagerly at the word mall. His dad never wanted to go there! “Okay, but maybe we should go there first? They close at seven.”

“Usually, yeah, but I been hearing commercials on the garage radio for the last couple weeks about some big Halloween shindig they got going after-hours. All the stores will be giving out candy and stuff for trick or treaters.” 

Kurt looked a bit conflicted. "Mrs. Marshall always makes Halloween Krispie Treats," he said, remembering a tradition of his favorite neighbor. "And Mrs. Cohen-Chang had giant candy bars the last time we went. But . . . the mall sounds really fun."

Burt didn't like the timid way Kurt was mentioning these things, clearly afraid that too much protest would cause him to call off the whole thing. He shrugged. “I don’t see why we can’t do both, since you had to miss out last year. The Marshalls usually have a great haunted house too. We can hit that place first on the way back from the mall.”

Dinner forgotten, Kurt launched himself out of his chair and into his father’s arms. “I’m done eating! Can we go now?”

Burt laughed and gave him a big hug. Swatting his miniature Irish dancer on the seat of his pants, he set him down and picked up the leftovers to deposit in the trash. “I’ll grab my hat, you get my keys.”

“Yay!”

As Burt shrugged into his coat, watching Kurt dance (literally) about in the front hallway, he grinned. If the kid had this much energy now, he was going be a regular Tasmanian Devil by the time he had a few candy bars in his system. Maybe he’d better walk him the long way around the neighborhood. Weave in and out for a mile or so to take the edge off. He had not told Kurt, but the mall had also advertised face-painting, games, and a haunted house suitable for little ones.

“Ready, kid?”

Kurt beamed and took his extended hand, more than ready to begin his night’s adventure. “Ready!”

For the first time in quite a while, Burt was ready to have an adventure too. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

The End


End file.
